


it's not a celebration if it's without you

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, its kinda in the middle of fluffy and angsty idk, lena is new to the whole celebration thing, lots of pining, sort of a best friends to lovers trope, sort of sad at times bc of how Lena is as a person, there’s also drunk Lena in there somewhere, these idiots are whipped for each other, we love holigays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lena sighs when she notes how worked up Kara is. She knows that on some level, it’s her fault and that’s enough to make her guts twist up inside. "Look, youknowI want to spend Christmas with you. You're myonlyfriend here, there's no one else I'd rather celebrate with...""Why do I feel like there's abutcoming?"Lena smiles, it’s a little sad and it somewhat looks like what she imagines a smile would if it was dressed up as an apology for Halloween. "ButI’m not selfish enough to act on it at the cost of ruining everyone else's holiday experience."Or, Lena has heard one too many stories about Christmas miracles but this is the first time she’s ever experienced one.





	it's not a celebration if it's without you

At first, it felt too much like a pity invite.

Lena had only been told two days prior to the trip, not too long after she'd mentioned to Kara that she had a meeting in Tokyo on Christmas that she was leaving for soon.

She remembers almost entirely clearly how Kara's smile had dropped at the admission, how her eyebrows had bunched up together and how her face had contorted in disbelief.

Safe to say, when she'd suddenly been invited to a Christmas getaway to James' holiday home in Sierra Nevada— _out of nowhere_ —the very next day, she had her inhibitions about the intent ( _read: formality_ ) of the invitation.

Not to mention how out of place she felt in the guest list—the only person she'd spoken more than a grand total of three sentences to (and who didn’t _hate_ her guts) out of the group was Kara.

Given that, _obviously_ , Lena had declined. Not rudely, of course. As if she could _ever_ be rude to Kara Danvers. She'd informed her best friend in the most convincing manner she could (Luthors, if _anything_ , were good liars) of how important the meeting was, how she couldn't miss it.

Kara's resultant pout had been so genuine, that maybe in some parallel universe, a more naive version of Lena would have let herself be fooled by the expression and rush to agree to whatever Kara wanted her to do in a heartbeat.

In this universe, though, Lena wanted to preserve what little of her self-esteem was left. (She was _better_ now. She knew better.)

And accepting invitations to an event last minute—no matter _who_ it’s from—because someone feels sorry that you’re _lonely_? That definitely contradicted the notion.

After all, Lena was used to being a lot of things but pitied wasn’t one of them.

Lena thought that was that. She was invited, she declined. End of story, right?

Wrong.

Lena always knew Kara was investigative—she just misjudged to what extent. Which was purely her own fault, given that Kara’s entire career was reflective of that skill ( _well_ , the non- _alien_ half of it, at the very least).

In Lena’s defense, though, she would've never imagined Kara following up to her polite denial by cross-checking her story with _Jess_ of all people. (" _I have friends in high places, Lena! You'll never know my sources._ ")

And Jess— _sweet, caring_ Jess—who had herself been trying for _weeks_ to convince Lena to take Christmas off had only too-eagerly confirmed Kara's suspicions. Lena was unsure whether to give her a raise or fire her.

Which is why when Kara barges into her office the next day, she doesn’t think twice about it. Must be an impromptu lunch. After being friends with Kara for a good while, she was no stranger to those.

When she looks up from her desk, she expects to hear a lecture on how she missed the most important meal of the day (Jess and Kara _really_ needed to stop being friends, in retrospect), and how she has to make up for it by having _extra-_ heavy lunch, which more often than not, is four bags of takeout from Noonan’s or Big Belly Burger.

It’s surprising, to say the very least, when she is instead faced with an accusatory glare from Kara, whose face is drawn together with the deadliest expression she could probably manage—which okay, maybe is _completely_ adorable to Lena but the intention behind it is still scary nonetheless—packed with narrowed eyes and lips pressed together in a thin line. Lena wasn’t even given a spare moment before Kara’s confrontation.

“What's this I'm hearing about _you_ insisting to go to Japan?” Kara says instead of a greeting, anger poorly masked by the tone of her voice, leaving Lena uncertain of whether Kara even wanted it to be concealed in the first place. “That doesn't sound very _unmissable_ to me."

Lena, who admittedly is pretty much _wholly_ inexperienced with dealing with situations such as this one ( _Where people care about her? Like, what?)_ , resorts to taking a deep breath to compose herself and makes an attempt to quickly fabricate a believable explanation. She begins with an uneven voice, "Kara—"

" _Lena_ ," Kara warns in a voice that sends chills down Lena’s spine, interrupting whatever bullshit Lena thought up like she _knows_ that an excuse is coming, intercepts it and wants to redirect it midway. It shouldn’t make her skin crawl the way it does and Lena feels Kara’s stone cold gaze soften as their eyes lock, like she’s sensing her fears, and Lena’s never been more grateful that Kara can’t stay mad at her for too long anyway. With a softer, gentler voice—the one Kara _usually_ uses with her—she asks, "Is there a reason you don't want to spend Christmas with me? A _valid_ reason?"

"I-uh," Lena stutters, unable to form a coherent argument. The entire concept of the invitation being genuine was foreign to her—in hindsight, she blames the bullies in her school—like, someone _actually_ wanted to spend Christmas with her? _Really?_ She shrugs away the thought and the doubts that come with it as a package deal, dismissing them quickly ( _I’m better now, I’m better now, I’m better now,_ comes a reminder from her brain _)_ ; decides to be honest when she notices the sullen look on Kara's face—the look that conveys that Kara was really hurt by her and she resolves to fix it. "I don't know anyone there, bar you," she starts, simple and to the point, exactly opposite to the multitude of conflicting feelings inside her. "Wouldn't it be awkward?” She notices Kara open her mouth, but before she could speak, Lena continues, “I'd feel like an outsider. Like _The Grinch—_ ruining the holiday fun."

Kara's frown deepens and she shakes her head, eyes intense as she speaks, _so intense_ that Lena feels the gaze pierce through her, like a dagger in her chest, about to twist but not quite. “You _know_ that's not what it'd be like.”

"That's exactly what it'll be like!" Lena counters with a scoff. She could maybe let herself believe it’s not all an elaborate prank because of _Kara,_ convince herself that _Kara_ really wants her there. But the rest? There was _no_ _way_. "I've never interacted with _anyone_ else invited, and from what I gather, none of them seem to like me very much."

"You don't know that—"

"It's a fair assumption when you're a Luthor," Lena shoots back, and she can _feel_ Kara’s frustration emanating off of her even when they’re standing a couple feet apart. Lena sighs when she notes how worked up Kara is. She knows that on some level, it’s her fault and that’s enough to make her guts twist up inside. "Look, you _know_ I want to spend Christmas with you. You're my _only_ friend here, there's no one else I'd rather celebrate with..."

"Why do I feel like there's a _but_ coming?"

Lena smiles, it’s a little sad and it somewhat looks like what she imagines a smile would if it was dressed up as an apology for Halloween. " _But_ I’m not selfish enough to act on it at the cost of ruining everyone else's holiday experience." She whispers the last part, barely audible—like she’s guilty of the crime before even committing it—but she knows Kara caught it with her super-hearing. She looks down, partly in embarrassment, partly in attempt to avoid Kara's disappointed look.

What follows is silence.

To Lena’s surprise, Kara doesn’t rush to deny what she said, which she counts as a win, but at the same time, she can practically _see_ the wheels turn in Kara's mind, and she’s too busy being afraid of what Kara will come up with next to celebrate leaving her momentarily speechless.

What feels like an eternity later, Kara says, simple and absolute, leaving little room for arguments, "I'll stay back then. I'm not letting you spend Christmas alone."

" _Kara_! How stubborn!" Lena scolds, shocked— _offended_ —at the solution, overwhelmed by the ferocity of it, digging her nails into her palm to keep her emotions in check. " _No_. Absolutely not. That's not what you're doing."

" _Yes_ , I am,” Kara tells her, with a sense of finality in her voice, the _no-bullshit_ kind that Lena only associates with Supergirl. “It's your choice, Lena. Either way, we _are_ spending it together—if you’re not coming with me, I’m staying back with you. I'm not leaving you behind. Not _now_ , not _ever_."

At that, Lena's resolve breaks. The tears she doesn’t realize she’s holding back suddenly cloud her vision and as soon as the first one drops, she knows Kara couldn't have rushed to her side faster.

Suddenly, Lena feels herself being embraced in strong arms and the act only make her tears fall down faster. The hug is _so_ soft and _so_ warm and _so_ _Kara_ that Lena wants to all but drown in the feeling _._ She knows she doesn’t deserve this—doesn’t deserve Kara, period—but neither does she have the willpower to move away. Not when Kara’s arms feel like security, not when they’re the only place she wants to be.

And it’s selfish. She knows it is. Letting Kara care for her, letting her comfort her. She’s undeserving of it. It’s inconsiderate and uncaring and totally thoughtless, but she can’t stop.

The embarrassment of the situation catches up to her, hits her directly in the chest with full force, and she feels like a teenager again, crying over _nothing._ It’s humiliating, Lena _knows_ it is, and inconveniently enough, it makes her want to cry harder.

"I'm sorry," she manages to croak out, voice muffled by Kara's shirt. She’s a little lost about what part she’s apologizing for but she knows that an apology is overdue nonetheless. At least, she thinks it is and that’s just as good a bet.

"You don't have to apologize," Kara replies guiltily, almost too quickly, holding Lena’s head protectively against her chest and Lena doesn’t know what to say to that, but she knows she feels like ripping her own skin out. “ _I’m_ sorry for forcing you.”

She thinks the conversation is over. Now that they’ve both apologized for things that didn’t _really_ need apologies and now that she’s reminded that she’ll always kind of hate herself, she assumes that the topic is buried and dropped.

But when she hears Kara speak after they’ve both had a minute to compose themselves, she knows she’s mistaken. "Lena, can I tell you something?"

It’s spoken so quietly, so carefully, that Lena is easily able to anticipate the gravity of the words Kara’s about to utter. “Anything,” she says, in a voice equally as soft.

"My first Christmas with the Danverses was a disaster,” Kara chuckles, and Lena pulls back a little from Kara’s strong grip to look at her face—Kara rarely mentions her childhood and the turn the conversation has taken is unexpected, it makes her cower and concentrate harder at the same time. “We didn't have Christmas in Krypton. And Christmas... what it stands for, the entire concept of it made me miss my family—made me miss _Krypton_. And all these traditions the Danverses had made me feel out of place, like I was intruding."

Lena nods, acknowledges what Kara says and buries her face back into her chest, lets her desperate grip on Kara’s shirt express how much she relates.

“I know what it’s like feeling like you’re an outsider,” Kara whispers, freeing one hand so she could run her fingers through Lena’s hair, working her way through the barely-there tangles. “I was wrong, though. I realized that _way_ later.” Her fingers still in Lena’s hair. “I wasted _so many_ Christmases being grumpy.” Kara laughs, sadness evident in her voice. “There was a loving family, _ready_ to accept me as their own and I was _so_ ungrateful.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Lena mumbles. The words are quick and desperate—like Lena couldn’t have gotten them out fast enough. All Lena knows is that Kara had to relive her bad memories in order to convince her to go on a _holiday_ , and it feels like a punch in the gut.

“I know,” Kara smiles, which Lena feels more than she sees. “Just like I _know_ that you _do_ want to come with me. Please spend Christmas with me? I know you want to.”

Lena stays still. She _is_ more than halfway convinced, though and she believes Kara knows that much.

“Christmas to me is all about spending time with _my_ people, making sure they feel loved and cherished,” Kara says a minute later, probably as her closing argument, pulling back and holding Lena’s face in her hand—so delicate and gentle that Lena forgets the strength Kara is capable of for a moment. “You’re _so_ important to me. I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone.”

As they stare at each other, Lena notices a look of _something_ cross Kara’s eyes, the intensity of it is slightly terrifying and Lena thinks she’s a little too overwhelmed to decipher its meaning. When it strangely starts to resemble _love_ , she confirms the hypothesis that she’s temporarily deluded. She doesn’t know what else to do but agree, what else to say but, “I’ll come.”

And that’s all it takes for Kara’s face to cover with grin. She’s smiling widely—the curve of her lips temporarily easing out the pain in Lena’s chest—using the pads of both her thumbs to brush away Lena’s remnant tears. “You won’t regret it, I swear,” Kara promises. “I’ll make sure it’s the _best_ Christmas of your life.”

 _That won’t be very hard,_ Lena thinks. “I’m sure you will,” she says instead. Kara’s still beaming at her when she alerts, “ _But_ fair warning, I really don’t think Christmas is worth its hype.”

“Take that back!” Kara says, jaw dropping in astonishment. Lena just shrugs, a small smile making its way to her face. “I’m taking that as a challenge. I bet you’ll be convinced otherwise by the end of this trip.”

Lena chuckles, but silently wishes that Kara _does_ prove her wrong.

Thereafter, Kara’s energy–her _excitement_ —is palpable, even childlike to an extent but Lena still thinks it’s cute in a weird sort of way. (But then again, she finds just about _anything_ Kara does cute in some way or the other.)

“Couldn’t you have told me a little sooner, Kara?” Lena says, walking over to her desk, meaning the question to be teasing more than anything else. When she sees Kara slightly tense up, she knows that’s not what it came across as and quickly adds, “We leave _tomorrow_ and I’m totally unprepared!”

Kara eases up just as fast and a smile makes its way back to her face. “You just need to pack your clothes,” she assures. “Everything else is taken care of. Maggie and Winn are getting the ornaments for the tree. James and I will buy the tree there, obviously. Alex is packing the snacks for the road and board games,” Kara explains and Lena can feel the enthusiasm radiate off her. “Oh, and um, we’ve all decided to donate to this local orphanage there... you know, instead of buying gifts. So, it’s a strict _no gifts_ policy.”

Lena nods, processing the information. “Okay, donating to an orphanage—great! That’s something I can work with.”

In spite of being pretty well-versed with _one_ of the things Kara’s mentioned they’d be doing, she’s admittedly still nervous about what the rest of the trip would be like. She kind of wishes she’ll be successful in finding some sort of tutorial on Google on what to expect from a Christmas vacation; from experience, though, it hasn’t worked out very well for other social gatherings she’d tried researching about, and she doesn’t put too many hopes on the idea.

As if sensing her worries, Kara promises, “ _Really_ , Lena, relax. Don’t worry about it at all. Just pack your comfiest—you know, _casual—_ clothes and show up at Alex’s apartment at 7. That’s all you have to do.”

The way Kara emphasizes on _casual,_ makes her want to find the closest mall and buy a new wardrobe solely for these next few days. She makes a mental note to go shopping after work and leaves it at that. She knows it’ll be futile panicking, it’s never amounted to any benefits earlier and there’s no reason that’ll change now. “Okay,” Lena smiles. “Text me the address.”

Kara lets out a squeal. “We’re spending Christmas together! _”_

Lena giggles, gushing in her head about how _adorable_ Kara is. It’s going to be an experience, spending Christmas not-alone, and there’s no one else she’d rather lose her Christmas-virginity to than Kara.

The only remaining thing she’s worried about is how she’d survive spending _five entire days_ with Kara, who she has a sad, hopeless, _pathetic,_ little crush on.

Not very advisable spending long durations of time with a crush she’s trying to move on from—especially when she falls a little deeper in love with every minute they’re together. It’s a recipe for disaster, isn’t it? Newton’s Law one, two and three: Don’t Spend Time With Person You’re Trying To Get Over. Like, a colossally bad idea—

But, _hey_ , she’s been successful so far, right? It’s not like she hasn’t already accepted and ingrained into her brain that Kara’s _way_ out of her league—less upsetting, more factual—to do anything about it. She’s dealt with ignoring it for all the time they’ve been _friends_ , what’s another five days?

She’s _Lena Luthor_ , after all. It would be a cake walk.

 

***

 

It definitely wouldn’t be a cake walk.

She realizes that much as soon as she sees Kara dressed in a tight black shirt (which _unfairly_ make her biceps bulge out) paired with dark, ripped, _skinny_ jeans (Lena’s too embarrassed to admit that her eyes linger a little too long on her _friend’s_ ass), the look exactly in the middle of chic and _please-fuck-me-against-a-wall_ , and the more she gawks at Kara, the more she feels her grip on her duffle bag loosen; she’s pretty sure no one should be allowed to look _that_ attractive at 7 in the morning.

She’s a little shocked she’s managing _not_ to drop her jaw in awe, and she thinks she definitely deserves a pat on the back for controlling herself from drooling.

Although Lena is sure the outfit Kara’s wearing very well falls under the _casual_ dress code category much like her own, she can’t help but feel underdressed. Blame Kara and her ability to look good in _anything._

There's everyone else too, she notices, probably a couple seconds too late; she refuses to acknowledge how in Kara’s presence, the rest of the world will always be secondary observations.

Her primary reaction to said secondary observations is feeling the same pressure again. The same one she felt in boarding school, the same one she felt in college, only _so_ much worse because now _Kara_ is involved in the equation and she’s never had anyone to _lose_ before— _oh god_ , what if they hate her? What if Kara starts to hate her?

Lena pushes the fear away, as back in her mind as she can, reminding herself that she’s not the same girl anymore. She’s better now. She knows better. She repeats it in her head enough times, like a mantra, so she can convince herself to believe it. It works only marginally.

“Hey!” Lena hears someone call out, pulling her out of her head, and she guesses it’s Kara because only she can be _that_ happy about her presence. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when she feels herself being engulfed in a tight hug that’s too familiar for it to be anyone _but_ her best friend ( _Who else here would want to hug her anyway?_ ). “I didn’t see you come.”

“Yeah, I just got here a minute back,” Lena explains. Kara takes her bag from her hand as soon as they pull apart, sooner than Lena can manage to get out a complain. She narrows her eyes, chastising, “Darling, I _can_ hold my own bag.”

Kara grins, holding her free hand up in surrender. “I’m sure you can! Never doubted that. You just don’t _have_ _to_ if I’m here and willing.”

Lena rolls her eyes but relents, knowing that Kara would get her way with this even if she puts up an argument.

She sees Alex walk up to them, to _her,_ from the corner of her eye and her anxiety sparks up again, even before she notices Alex’s girlfriend Maggie walking alongside—who Lena completely _panics_ on seeing on top of her usual anxiety because she’s totally unsure on how she’s supposed to greet someone who _handcuffed_ her on their first and only encounter.

She’s saved from the tension when Alex enthusiastically announces, “ _I win_!” at the sight of her, not bothering with a proper greeting.

Her muscles slightly relax— _okay, not a very cold greeting_ —and she’s about to express her confusion politely when Kara beats her to it with, “ _What_? Win what?”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “It’s a stupid bet we made—”

Alex scoffs, “You _surely_ wouldn’t be calling it stupid if you won.”

Kara looks between them, eyebrows drawing together as she interrupts again, “Um... Catch us up here? What bet?”

“Maggie thought Luthor would show up in her usual attire—you know those expensive dresses that cost more than any of our apartments,” Alex excitedly elaborates; Lena is uncertain how she feels being the primary topic of discussion and can’t help but note how out-of-character she thinks this conversation is for all parties involved. Alex continues before she can ponder further, “And, _obviously_ , I told her you would’ve told her to dress comfortably. Maggie still disagreed and we placed a bet.”

“In my defense, I didn’t expect you to own casual clothing,” Maggie shrugs. Lena doesn’t counter with the _On what basis?_ that’s on the tip of her tongue, mostly because Maggie seems _genuinely_ disheartened on being wrong about her assumption and the entire thing is a little too cute for her to be offended or get her guards up.

Lena smiles and says in a voice way calmer than she imagined, “To be fair, I don’t really own a lot of it—it’s not even an intentional decision, there’s just not many occasions I’d get to _wear_ casual clothes for me to go out of my way to buy them.”

Kara lets out a rather boisterous laugh, a little too loud for a not-joke, and the other two girls just smile; Lena can’t help but feel pleasantly surprised at how much warmer the interaction is than she expected, and it kind of makes her suspect Kara’s prior involvement but nonetheless, does wonders for her apprehension.

Winn joins them not long after, and there are no ice-breakers necessary before he pulls Lena away and into a conversation about beam emittance, leaving the other three behind—so excited that Lena speculates that he had the discussion pre-planned, which is equal parts endearing and scary.

Midway into the conversation, she notices that the luggage has finished being loaded into the minivan, courtesy of the joint efforts of James and Kara, and that Alex and Maggie have already taken their seats on the second row.

Winn must’ve noticed the same time she did because the next thing she knows is Winn sprinting to the front seat, shouting a non-sensical _Shotgun!_ to Lena as an explanation.

Lena leisurely walks up to the vehicle subsequently, reassuring herself that the trip might really go better than she initially expected, joining Kara who grins at her and James who... doesn’t really look at her at all.

“You and Lena can sit at the back?” James suggests—addressing Lena for the first time since she got there, but it’s not even _directed_ at her—and in spite it not being a choice, Kara shrugs her agreement after cross-checking with Lena.

Kara, always the chivalrous one, lets Lena in first and ensures multiple times if she’s comfortable and while it _is_ the most uncomfortable seat Lena’s ever sat in while traveling, it’s next to Kara which makes it infinitely better.

In the next thirty minutes, she spots at least three sleeping members and she guesses it’s something about it being 7:30 in the morning and something about there not being much else they could do in a jam-packed minivan.

She’s pretty unsure of what to do herself when Kara scoots up next to her, so close that their sides are entirely touching and Lena feels her heart skip a beat just at the contact, making her _pathetic, little_ crush jump to the forefront of her brain.

Kara bumps their shoulders, whispering, “I’m bored.”

“You know, you _could_ have just flew there,” Lena replies in an equally hushed tone, diverting her attention from how they’re in contact, giggling at how Kara’s eyes widen at the realization.

“I wouldn’t have had to get up at 6 either then!” Kara adds, groaning in disbelief. “Damn it.”

Lena chuckles again, shaking her head at Kara.

They grow silent, mostly because instead of speaking, Kara chooses to study Lena’s face instead, and just when Lena’s beginning to feel insecure, Kara accuses, "Why does it look like you haven't slept a minute?"

 _Of course, that’s what she’s worried about._ Lena smiles sheepishly. "I had to catch up on some work,” she justifies.

Kara shakes her head playfully in disapproval, a teasing glint in her eyes. Lena feels her sober up when she chides, "When will you learn to take care of yourself?"

"I care plenty,” Lena answers, tries to control herself from blushing; it’s not often when people care for her so openly, but Kara seems to be an exception to that. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to leave for five _whole_ days—my _company_ wasn’t expecting me to leave for five whole days, I _had_ to wrap things up.”

“You can’t survive without sleep, Lena,” Kara chastises, ignoring her reasoning completely, the concern evident on her features as she worries her bottom lip.

“That’s what people want you to believe,” Lena whispers conspiratorially, wiggling her eyebrows for an added effect.

" _Nuh-uh_ ," Kara tuts, wrapping an arm around Lena’s shoulder, and gesture is enough to make Lena’s heart beat at an inhuman rate— _which…_ shouldn’t she be used to it by now with how awfully often Kara does this? “You’re not getting away with this by being _cute_.”

Before Lena can respond, Kara’s tugging her body fully against her own, ignoring Lena's surprised gasp. Lena’s heart starts to beat _more_ frantically and she’s hyper aware of the fact that Kara can hear it easily—which makes it thud even faster, so much so that she wouldn't be surprised if it burst out of her chest.

"Come on, you're sleeping for a few hours,” Kara orders, words amplified with how Lena’s ear is pressed against her body, face remaining neutral. Lena’s grateful Kara’s not commenting on how her heart’s competing for the Olympics. In this position, though, Lena’s sure she won’t be able to sleep even if she _wanted_ to.

Kara’s hand gently reaches for her face, and Lena’s scared at how _physical_ she’s getting because even if it doesn’t affect Kara herself, Lena is _burning_ everywhere and she’s sure she can’t handle any more contact without combusting. Uncaring, the hand reaches for her eyes which instinctively make Lena’s eyelids drop close and Lena’s shocked—is Kara _forcing_ her to sleep?

Lena begins to protest but Kara, whose hand is now covering her eyes, interrupts, “I don’t have enough hands to cover your mouth too, Lena. Stop talking and for the love of god, _sleep_.”

Lena thinks to resist—to break free from Kara’s grip—but when she lets herself feel her body cushion against Kara’s and her eyelids close, she forgets all about it. Her body rejoices at the opportunity to rest, her heart calms down and she feels all the tension start to slip away. She chooses to murmur, in one last act of rebellion, words betraying her intention, "You're a good pillow."

Kara only hums in return, and her steady heartbeat lulls Lena further into unconsciousness. Lena feels the hand covering her eyes move some time later but she’s too drowsy to open them.

When she feels strong arms pull her closer, wrapping around her body and a soft kiss press to her temple, she convinces herself it’s a dream.

 

***

 

Lena wakes up warm—tucked snugly into a blanket, well-rested and... confused. She groggily rubs her eyes open, sitting up to find herself in an unfamiliar room, not remembering going to sleep at all—and _that_ is never a good sign, not when you’re a Luthor and used to being held hostage. She panics when she sees the door open, ready to scream for her life, but then Kara walks in, which suddenly makes all the anxiety she felt only seconds ago dissipate immediately.

“Hey,” Kara greets with a soft smile. “I heard you wake up,” she says, probably realizes _what_ she said and attempts to rectify, “ _Like_ not _heard_ you wake up but heart your heartb— _uh,_ I mean... Hi?”

Lena studies Kara for a moment, cocking an eyebrow as she chuckles at the human embodiment of the word _dork_ standing in front of her. “Hi, Kara.”

Kara grins sheepishly, and Lena can tell Kara is physically restraining herself from squirming. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Lena says. It’s true. Surprisingly, this was the best sleep she’s had in a long while and that too in a car— “ _Wait_... How did I get here?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kara remembers, fiddling with her fingers, a blush creeping up her neck. “About that. You were asleep so... I just didn’t want to disturb you, you know, because you were tired. And you needed sleep. So I just— _yeah_.”

“Oh, so you—” Lena pauses, slightly turning scarlet as the realization dawns upon her. _Ignore it_ , is Lena’s first thought, _ignore your attractive, strong best friend that you totally have a huge crush on and the mental image of her carrying you_. _She’s done it before. It’s okay._ It seems to work out after she takes a deep breath, moving on as she chuckles, changing the topic before she makes a fool of herself, “I was _so_ clueless when I woke up.”

“ _Well_... a good nap does that to you,” Kara shrugs, teasing lilt to her voice. “And not to inflate my own ego but I was told I’m a good pillow.”

“I mean you definitely don’t compare to my memory foam,” Lena mocks playfully, corner of her mouth tugging up in a half-smirk.

Kara chuckles, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Uh, we’re kind of sharing a room,” Kara hesitantly addresses. “Maggie and Alex are sharing one, and James and Winn took the other two so... this is the only free room.” She quickly adds, before Lena could shrug it off dismissively, “I’ll take the couch in the living room to sleep, though. And you can have this bed to yourself.”

Lena raises her eyebrow, “There’s really no need for— _unless_ , do you feel uncomfortable sharing a bed?”

“ _No!_ ” Kara disagrees immediately, if only a little _too_ enthusiastically which Lena chooses to ignore for the sake of her sanity. “It’s cool with me—if... if it’s cool with you.”

“I _did_ imply I was fine with it, darling,” Lena smiles, tongue peeking out from between her teeth, almost challengingly.

“Then it’s fine with me, too,” Kara says, with more confidence.

“Well, it’s settled then.”

“Alright,” Kara grins, leaning forward to kiss Lena’s cheek as a seal of confirmation. Lena has no time to react before Kara goes about unpacking, moving to where she kept her suitcase in the corner of the room.

The gesture feels romantic, when Lena reanalyses it in her dazed state. How comfortable, how _natural_ it felt. In fact, Kara and her sharing a room— _a bed_ —together also kind of feels romantic. In a way. Like they’re girlfriends. The thought is enough to make Lena’s head spin.

In theory, Lena thinks, that idea sounds nice. Kara as her girlfriend, that is. Maybe even _better_ than nice–it's pretty much all Lena can wish for, if she lets herself admit it. But then, reality kicks in and she realizes even if she doesn't want to, that she's a _Luthor_ and Kara's a _Super_ and they're the textbook definition of star-crossed... friends? They're not lovers. Lena wishes they'd be but... Lena sighs, noticing that her thoughts are going in circles.

Besides, she doesn’t _deserve_ Kara. She never will. And she sort of wants to berate herself for even thinking of her best friend in that manner, for her juvenile, _pathetic, little_ crush that she’s let play on for too long—

“Still sleepy?” Kara questions, bringing Lena out of her trance. She realizes that Kara has unpacked already, and unless she was using super-speed, _that_ implies she was in her head for a pretty long while thinking about Kara. Which isn’t a great sign in any form. _Maybe this trip is a bad idea after all._

“Kind of, but I’m fine,” Lena lies, forcing out a smile—even adds a fake yawn for effect. She stretches her limbs before she asks, “Well, what’s the plan then? I have to get out of bed at some point.”

“James and I are going to the buy the tree,” Kara tells her, nervously adjusting her already perfectly aligned glasses. “And the rest are probably going to start baking soon.”

Lena hums. “I’m joining you then?”

It sounds more like a statement than a question but Kara answers either way. “If you want,” Kara shrugs. Then, hesitantly adds, “I kind of assumed you’d rather bake.”

“I mean…” The statement is true and Lena can’t bring herself to deny it. But spending time with _Kara’s_ friends without Kara? That can only go one way. “I’d like to, sure. But it’d be awkward, don’t you think?”

“You held up pretty well earlier,” Kara counters, and while Lena kind of agrees, she’s certain there was lots of behind the scenes action to ensure _that_ happening. “With _all_ three of the people you’d be baking with.”

Lena narrows her eyes, deciding to question, “Yeah, I was wondering how that turned out to be _so_ easy... External interference perhaps?”

Kara looks like a deer caught in headlights for just about a split second before she recovers. “Really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lena’s about to argue, when Kara beats her to it, “ _Anyway,_ just _please_ stop worrying. Spending more time with them will make you all grow closer.” Kara pauses, and Lena wants to argue how it’s never that easy but she gives Lena the most reassuring look she’s ever received which makes the words die down in her throat. “They all like you, Lena. Maybe this baking experience solidifies three new friendships... if you try.”

They stare at each other for a few long, intense seconds; Lena with uncertainty and Kara with encouragement. It lasts approximately about five seconds before Lena sighs, “You _love_ convincing me to agree to things I don’t want to agree to, don’t you?”

“I get a kick out of it,” Kara teases back, before squealing in victory.

Lena shakes her head. She _really_ needs to learn how to say no to Kara.

 

***

 

It’s a nagging hesitation at the back of her head, how the entire evening will play out, which rushes to the forefront immediately after Kara leaves.

It’s unnerving, the moment she walks into a room full of practically strangers who she imagines don’t really like her all that much. It kind of makes her feel _small,_ in a way that reminds her of her childhood.

She tries to ignore it. Reminds herself she’s better and concentrates on the appliances and ingredients sprawled across the counters in the kitchen.

She’s familiar with most of them, which gives her a sort of comfort. _Well._

Lena has always been a rather skilled baker—a skilled _cook,_ in all honesty. Probably due to all the meals she has to prepare for herself for all the holidays she spends alone but a skill is a skill, right? No matter how it’s acquired.

She does pride herself in it too, but the fact is rather unknown given that she has cooked for no one else but herself.

But _this—_ baking an unnecessary amount, that is—is kind of what she’d be doing to spend the festival even if she was stuck in Japan, or parallelly, her own apartment; it gives her something to do, keeps her mind occupied so she doesn’t drown in loneliness. Which is what holidays are all about. Essentially. _Molecularly._

So, yeah. Baking. It’s something she’s always enjoyed, always been good at.

And being the _only_ skilled baker in a room of four people trying to make a truckload of Christmas assortments has its own set of advantages, a set of advantages exclusive of her fears—so exclusive that she forgets they’re there in the first place.

For instance, people _always_ needing her.

And being needed is kind of a bonding experience of its own—

“Lena! It says to whip it for two minutes and I already did _seven_ and it still has lumps!”

Or, “Can you please tell me how to pipe the icing again? Why the fuck is this _so_ hard?”

Even, “Is the batter really supposed to be _this_ runny? It looks like ketchup.”

And—well, yeah. It’s cute, and even if she never admits to Kara, _kind of_ paves the way for her to solidify three new friendships after all. (Which— _don’t_ even get her started on.)

“It’s in the oven!” Winn exclaims, putting the last tray of sugar cookies in to bake. “ _God,_ and I thought Quantum mechanics was hard. Baking really takes the cake here,” he pauses, controls his own laughter as he looks around for a reaction. “ _Get it?_ Takes the _cake?_ ”

“Winn, you’re an idiot,” Maggie says in return, not missing a beat, eliciting a laugh from both Lena and Alex. Lena’s reactions are flowing much easier than they did initially, and she finds it weirdly calming to interact with people who, contrary to her primary belief, don’t seem to hate her.

“ _Seriously?”_ Winn complains, jaw dropped in bewilderment. “You’ll both laugh at _that_ but not my very _punny_ joke?”

Alex rolls her eyes, “We’re all still annoyed at you for forgetting to grease the moulds, forgive us for not finding you the funniest person in the room.”

“I greased them the first time!”

“Oh, the time you forgot to add baking soda?” Maggie counters, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

“ _Hey,_ it all turned out okay,” Lena interrupts, siding with Winn to even the playing field. “Besides, it’d turn out to be boring without the mishaps…”

“Lena, it only turned out to be _anything_ because _you_ were there,” Maggie laughs… in a way that sounds oddly grateful? Is that a thing?

Alex nods in agreement. “Honestly, Luthor, you really saved the day.”

Lena shrugs, smile involuntarily making its way to her face. If being needed was point numero uno, it ought to be demoted because being _appreciated_ was even atop that. The voice in her head tells her _you’re better now,_ but it’s not said as a reminder, more of an acknowledgement and it washes over her in relief.

“I’m really glad Kara forced us all to make this plan last minute,” Maggie says after a moment, the look of contentment displayed clearly by her face.

Lena nods along at first, not spotting anything odd in the statement but a moment later it clicks, making her ask in confusion, “ _Wait_ , this is happening because of Kara?”

“Duh,” Winn speaks. “We were all going to crash at J’onn’s otherwise. Papa Bear would be—”

The rest of Winn’s sentences drowns out when the confirmation sinks in. _It couldn’t be._ Wasn’t she invited last moment—

“Yeah, Kara’s the one who suggested it— _actually_ , scratch that, suggested is too kind,” Alex grins, getting Lena’s attention again. “ _Insisted_ , more like.”

Maggie’s eyebrows bunch up in confusion. She turns to Alex. “It was actually the time she came back from lunch with Lena, wasn’t it?”

Alex nods in recollection, looking at Lena. “She said she discussed it with you?”

Lena pauses, lets the information absorb. Lena’s brain takes no time to match the timeline, and all evidence provided points to the conclusion that Kara did this for _her_. Exclusively. It adds up mathematically but fails to make any sense in her brain—she can see _why,_ but there’s no way for her to understand the intention. “Oh, yes,” Lena lies, faking her realization. “ _Right,_ yeah, I completely forgot.”

“Completely forgot what?” Lena tenses when she recognizes the voice. _Kara_. Who _obviously_ wishes for this to be a secret. What would she even say if Kara knows she knows? _Thank you_? _Sorry_? Nope. That would be awkward and Lena doesn’t know how to deal with _awkward._ Especially with Kara.

Winn, who is the least surprised by Kara’s sudden entry, starts to explain, “It’s—”

“The cookies!” Lena interrupts, cutting off Winn and receiving puzzled looks from everyone, knowing it’s been only around ten minutes since they put them in and it’s _way_ too soon to be worried about them. “It’s time to check on them.” She walks over to the oven in a hurry, forgoing any safety measures and heading to open the oven bare handed—

“ _Careful_!” Lena feels Kara intercept her, swatting her hand away and pushing her back so she can take the tray out. “You could’ve burned yourself!”

“I would’ve used gloves,” Lena blushes. She wouldn’t have, obviously, like the complete distracted forgetful idiot she was. But Kara doesn’t have to know.

“ _Of course_ you would,” Kara mocks, shaking her head as she places the tray on the counter. “You’re a complete idiot for a genius, you know that?”

Lena ignores Kara, walking over to the cookies and making a show of doing a toothpick test. Which the cookie _obviously_ fails.

“Where is James?” Lena hears Alex ask Kara when she tunes back into the conversation after putting the cookies back to bake. “Didn’t he leave with you?”

“Oh yeah,” Kara remembers. “He’s locking up. Which was something you all forgot to do, _by the way_. I just walked right in. Like a burglar could.”

“You’re so overdramatic.” Maggie scoffs, crossing her arms across her chest. “We have a detective and cop—sort of. And _two_ geniuses… I mean, maybe, one genius and a Winn.” Winn throws a spatula. Maggie ducks. “ _See_? I can defend myself against weapons too! We’d survive a measly burglar, Danvers.”

Kara’s about to argue back, and Lena can already hear a lecture on safety when Winn saves them all by asking, “Where’s the tree? Is it _big?_ ”

“Very. The complete opposite of your dick,” James says, chuckling as he walks into the room. Before Winn could retort, he continues, “ _Oh,_ it smells _good_ in here.”

“Thank Lena for that,” Alex mentions, grinning at Lena which makes her feel warm inside. _Yeah,_ this evening went well. She feels Kara look at them with a fond smile, which makes the warmth spark up into a full fire.

She feels James’ gaze at her too, which in contrast, oddly cools her up a bit. Lena deflects the compliment, “No, it was all of—”

She’s replied to with three different versions of “ _Shut up, Lena!_ ”

 _Definitely_ solidified three new friendships. Lena could deal with that.

 

***

 

They’re two movies in, settled into the living room with a cup of hot chocolate each and cookies on the coffee table—weighing out their options for the third.

It’s oddly comfortable, sitting in a group, being a part of something. Kara pressed right beside her, one arm protectively wrapped around her shoulder and Winn to her other side, making a comment once every 15 minutes which has a solid 50% success rate of making her laugh.

Different, definitely. But _good_ different. The kind of different she’s grateful for.

If not for Kara, Lena would’ve probably spent the upcoming Christmas like she does any other day, like she had been doing all her life.

Of course, she’d probably wake up to three different variations of _Merry Christmas!_ texts from Jess, Sam and Jack—who along with Kara, act as exhaustive sets in the sample space of Lena’s social life—but hearing from _all_ her friends on one single day would be extent of how her day would differ from any other regular day. No other variation.

Maybe, if she’d be particularly unlucky, Lillian would attempt to contact her.

Thinking about Lillian already makes the happiness she was feeling fade away a little.

Lena always thought that she had to compress herself to unimaginable limits to fit into the tiny, little mould Lillian had set out for her, so much so that she had practically vaporized in the process, kneading herself down, becoming pliable under Lillian’s hands.

And _that_ had been going on for _so_ long that Lena was sure she no longer knew how to occupy space, didn’t even know if it was even acceptable for her to.

She _was_ learning though.

Learning even if Lillian made her feel guilty about it every second. _Especially_ if Lillian made her feel guilty about it every second.

She feels Kara nudge her, which snaps her out of her daze and she experiences a whiplash when she goes from thoughts of Lillian to the presence of Kara. She keeps her face neutral, giving away no sign that her attention had diverted, listening intently as Kara says, “No opinion for the next movie?”

Lena looks around, sees Maggie’s pleading expression and James eyes focused on her, vaguely remembers hearing something about a _Maggie versus James_ situation for choosing the next movie. Although there wasn’t much information for her to base her decision off, Lena replies, “I’m siding with Maggie.”

Maggie grins, “ _That’s_ my girl!”

“Kara?” James asks, shifting his gaze to her side, eyes hopeful and determined.

Kara looks from him to Maggie and finally settles her eyes at Lena. “I guess I have to go with Maggie too.”

“ _Fuck, yes!”_ Maggie celebrates, grabbing the remote.

Maggie’s almost pressing play when James exasperates, groaning as he reads the title. “We’ve watched _The Polar Express_ and _The Holiday_ already! Do we really need to watch _Love, Actually?_ ”

“ _Hey_ , voting is voting!” Maggie argues, shrugging to express her indifference to his protest. “The audience wants _Love, Actually._ ”

“Kara sided with you because Lena sided with you—” Lena has to try _very_ hard not to react at that and keep listening. “And Alex did because you’re her girlfriend!” James counters grumpily. “This is _rigged.”_

“Queer solidarity, Jimmy,” Maggie brushes off, making Kara groan out a _Hey! I actually like the movie!_ and Lena blush, trying to drown out the laughter that surrounds her and focus on keeping her expression in check—act like what’s banter to others isn’t resulting in her heart rate doubling.

Winn joins in on James’ side, turning to look at the girls, “Can we _please_ switch it up a little? Watch _Black Christmas_ or _Jack Frost,_ maybe? _Please?_ ”

“They’re horror,” Lena notes, biting her lip worriedly. At first, she made her choice solely based on _who_ was presenting the options, but now that she knows what genre James is interested in, she wholeheartedly agrees with her previous impartial decision, all grounds considered.

“They’re actually so stupid, it’s more funny than it is scary,” Alex argues. She looks up at the screen and sighs, “I guess I change my vote to James. I _am_ a little tired of rom-coms.” At the gasp, she turns to Maggie, “ _Sorry_ , babe.”

Before Maggie can protest, James grins, announcing, “It’s tied now!”

Winn makes a show of fake-whispering _very_ loudly to Kara. “ _Psst_! Choose Black Christmas. _Scary_ time implies _cuddly_ time.”

“ _Okay,_ fine,” Kara relents. Maggie shouts a _Traitor!_ and Lena can no longer control the color creeping up her neck. _Was that flirting?_ It can’t be. _No, Kara’s just being funny_.

She has to question it again when Kara wraps her arm around Lena's waist, and Lena feels herself being pulled into Kara's body and for a moment, she feels like she’s on fire and not only due to the maybe-flirting this time. “ _Hey_ ,” Kara whispers in her ear, and Lena feels it like a shock that passes through her body, electric and scary, nuzzling into her neck. “Cuddling excuse aside, you know I’ll protect you.”

Um. This is a little closer to romantic territory than they usually come, isn’t it?

Lena feels herself burn up even more at the prospect. _This has to be flirting._ Definitely. _No. It’s how best friends tease each other, you idiot._ She feels her heart and brain claw at each other when she huffs out, “Shut up, Kara,” ignoring her mental battle completely, shifting in Kara’s grip to make her loosen her hold.

Friends. It’s _friendly._ She can calm down.

It doesn’t work. Not at all, actually, because the next thing she knows is that Kara is giggling and pulling Lena closer. Lena doesn’t know how to feel but dizzy– _dizzyingly happy, dizzyingly confused, dizzyingly terrified_ –and she's unsure if she will ever be able to move away from Kara’s arms if Kara doesn't let go first.

Her lack of self-control kind of scares her and kind of doesn't, and she blames her uncertainty on the dizziness, and by the virtue of association, Kara.

She’s at the risk of beginning to fucking _vibrate_ at any moment when the movie starts playing, and her situation only worsens when she feels Kara's hand slide up the front of her shirt, in a _non_ -sexual, _non_ -invasive manner where all Kara’s _really_ doing is stroking her skin but that's enough for Lena's nerves to short-circuit and all her blood to directly rush to her face.

Is this really how friends act with each other?

She glances at Alex and Maggie and even they aren’t sitting this close. Maybe Kara’s just a touchy person? _Yeah,_ that’s got to be it.

She spends the next minute, next _hour_ trying to ignore how Kara’s invading all her senses—trying and miserably failing.

She knows she's still blushing, even when a good chunk of time passes from the initiation of contact and _that_ only makes her blush harder—the fact that Kara affects her this much, that her _pathetic, little_ crush is no longer little (but still pathetic), makes her doubt if it ever really was; the worst part is that she can't stop blushing or thinking about blushing or thinking about _Kara_.

And her brain is repeatedly reciting Kara's name and her heart is beating steady to the same beat until all Lena can see, think, feel, hear and breathe is _Kara, Kara, Kara_.

Fuck. She’s really drowned deep to the point of no return.

She tries to divert her attention, make her feelings fade away. _Black Christmas._ It’s supposed to be scary, isn’t it? Lena hates horror. Absolutely abhors it. But she’s willing to subject herself to it, willing to make this sacrifice so long as she distracts herself.

It doesn’t work. Not even with the blood on the screen. It’s definitely not fading away, not with time, not with the murder in horrible movies and not even when Kara removes her hand from Lena’s skin to grab popcorn—it’s still there and Lena thinks that all the times she’s repressed her feelings for Kara are collectively taking revenge on her for being bottled up. Like she ran out of storage space and all these feelings are rushing out at once, protesting for oppression, fighting for their rights.

It’s too much. Way too much—

"You okay?” Kara whispers in her ear. _Again_. And there’s a jolt of electricity, that makes her want to squirm away. She takes a second to process what Kara’s saying because all she can think about is Kara’s lips against her ear and Kara’s hand back on her stomach and her body pressed against her own to concentrate on anything else. “You seem a little hot."

“No, uh, I just think my eyes are tired from watching movies,” she fabricates, removing Kara’s arms away from her body and finally feeling a _little_ cooled off, the relief washing over her like a wave. “I think I might go to bed actually,” she says as an excuse. It’s a white lie, but it’s for survival, alright? She’d die if she stayed next to Kara for even a second more—

“I’ll come with,” Kara replies, loud enough to garner the attention of the rest.

“ _Wait_ , where are you two going?” Alex asks, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie.

“I’m not used to _this_ much screen time,” Lena answers, and she feels all these lies stick to her skin like an annoying itch which she can’t shake away. “I think I’ll go to—”

“We can talk for a bit instead,” Maggie suggests. “This movie is a big _yawn_ anyway,” she says, looking accusingly at James who picks a handful of popcorn and throws it in her direction.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Alex scolds, gripping Maggie’s hand so she doesn’t retaliate. “No food fights. We’re not twelve.”

“He clearly is!”

“You’re both children,” Winn comments, earning twin glares from both parties.

“ _Okay_ ,” Kara says. “Let’s keep up the Christmas spirit. And _not_ bite each other’s heads off.”

“We’ve ticked off a lot of what we planned,” Alex notes. “Like Christmas tradition wise.”

“Maybe this could be a recurring thing,” Maggie suggests. “Going on a road trip.”

“Planning it _ahead_ so even Eliza and J’onn can make it.” Alex glares at Kara.

“ _Cool_!” Kara squeaks awkwardly, which Lena guesses, is probably so that _she_ doesn’t catch on. For her part, she pretends to be indifferent. “Road trip as a tradition, got it.”

“Speaking of Christmas traditions,” James says, leaning back to the couch, putting his empty mug on the table. Lena thinks she sees a smug smile on his face as he turns to her, “How does this measure up by Luthor standards?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lena shrugs, praying it comes off nonchalant. “This is kind of my first time _celebrating_ Christmas—as a Luthor or otherwise.”

“Really?” Winn gasps, making Lena only mildly uncomfortable by the attention.

“Yeah, Lillian doesn’t really believe in…” she trails off, realizing immediately that she’s saying more than she'd usually let herself admit, deciding to complete with a short, “ _manufactured_ holidays.”

“But it’s Christmas!” Winn argues dramatically, but it’s Winn and even with the short time she’s known him, she knows he addresses almost everything a little _too_ dramatically.

“Yeah, tell that to my mother,” Lena sighs, avoiding meeting eyes with anyone to avoid the look of pity in their eyes, just squeezes tighter when Kara takes hold of her hand. (And, like, _maybe_ she was contemplating having a conversation with Kara about physical boundaries… but the comfort Kara’s hand provides makes her rethink that.)

“Do you plan to wish her?” James asks, folding his arms over his chest. “For Christmas.”

The question shocks her, but she tries her best to not make it show. “Don’t have her number. But I doubt I’d exchange niceties even if I did.”

The environment is faintly tense, increasingly awkward by every second, and Lena’s not sure if she’s the only one to think that—

“You were close to Lex, though, weren’t you? Don’t you have any Christmas memories with him?”

Lena knows her Achilles Heel has been located, because as soon as she hears her brother’s name, she freezes up. Her mind stops functioning, and she has to force her brain to process the sentence, to not shut down and do it’s fucking job.

It’s a simple enough question and Lena hates herself for not being able to open her mouth and just answer it, not being able to put idiots like James Olsen in their place, not being able to withstand uncomfortable questions. She wants to rip out her cortex and replace it with something that _works—_

(But the thing is, her brain's directory had hit block on Lex’s name quite some time ago—realizing how recalling him only led to impair—which is why no matter how many times he has been brought up to her in conversations, it always felt distinctly similar to ripping off a band-aid from a fresh wound. It’s a defense mechanism, an extra protective layer and Lena’s brain really doesn’t deserve so much bashing for safe-guarding, does it?)

She feels a moment pass, maybe even two moments, maybe even ten and yet, she remains still.

“Lena?” Kara prompts, squeezing her hand once again and the way Kara looks at her is slightly disconcerting, but it makes Lena snap back into reality—whatever malfunctioning her brain underwent repairs itself and her persona visibly strengthens.

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” she quickly apologizes, brushing off all her uneasiness along with it. She turns to James, plastering a sickly sweet smile onto her face. “Well, he had other concerns, I’m guessing. Other than celebrating Christmas—”

“Like devising ways to kill Superman?”

Suddenly, the Trojan War’s over and arrow has been shot at target, only she feels it in her heart rather than her heel.

It’s said as joke, Lena notes. At least, she thinks it is because she hears people laugh. She’s used to that—painfully so—being the laughing stock, and she barely prevents herself from running and crying as a reflex. Her gaze shifts downward, knuckles turn white from how tightly she’s gripping Kara’s hand, and she guesses it might even be painful if the hand she was gripping wasn’t a Kryptonian’s.

She realizes that her reaction is being awaited, and the longer she waits, the more strained the silence is becoming. The laughter that previously filled the room takes very little time to dissolve into tension when every one looks up to notice Lena’s expression. She feels the pressure of saying something, making a counter-joke but her larynx refuses to cooperate, “Uh, I—”

“Weren’t you feeling tired?” Kara interrupts—to everyone’s relief, saving Lena from answering.

Maggie hurriedly nods, joining in to effectively redirect the conversation, “Oh yeah. You look sleepy. Both of you. Maybe you guys should go to sleep after all.”

Kara stands up, not losing hold of Lena’s hand. “Can we go to bed?”

Lena looks around, and finds that James has already unpaused the movie and both Winn and Alex are at least _pretending_ to watch it.

For the lack of other options, she nods at Kara, using her hand for support as she stands up.

The journey to their room is silent, but Kara doesn’t let go of her hand which makes her calm down faster. She bites the insides of her cheek to prevent herself from crying— _she’s better_. She’s not going to cry because of what someone said. She’s not that person anymore.

Kara only lets go of her hand when she has to take out her pajamas, and Lena feels the loss immediately. They’re still not speaking and Lena feels Kara might just be walking around eggshells for her sake. It makes her want to laugh. Of course, she’s _that_ person. The sensitive bitch who can’t even handle banter. No wonder she has no friends.

They’re both done with their nightly routines—Lena going through hers almost mechanically, muscle memory guiding her through—brushing and washing up, changing into fresh pajamas, and settling into bed and under the covers, lights shut and only muffled noise from where the movie is still playing downstairs filling the room when Lena says, “You didn’t have to do that.”

It’s the first sentence she’s spoken to Kara since they got up.

“Do what?” Kara replies, doing a _god_ -awful job of playing dumb.

Lena is relentless. She turns to Kara’s side, tells her firmly, “I can handle James Olsen, Kara.”

 _Clearly, you can’t_ , her brain mocks but she pushes it aside, focusing the energy instead to glare at her best friend.

When Kara stays silent, Lena adds, “I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need you to shield me—”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kara says, interrupting her. And Lena wants to yell at her that it’s _okay_ to ask questions, to be confused and demand answers, want to know why she reacted how she reacted.

She knows she can’t, though and settles for, “Liar.”

“I _wasn’t_ lying about wanting to sleep, I’ll tell you that much,” Kara points out, like the part-truth balances out the falsification. Lena identifies it as another attempt to move on from the topic, to avoid Lena’s _almost_ -breakdown.

Lena sighs. It’s futile, really, all of her efforts—Kara’s never going to broach a topic she knows Lena’s uncomfortable to discuss, even if Lena doesn’t mind speaking about uncomfortable topics for the benefit of Kara, not _really_. But Lena’s _so_ tired. Too tired to argue. Especially argue Kara’s goodwill.

After what feels like a century, Lena lets herself relax, lets her body unwind and uncoil. Kara’s not the enemy, and she’s not going to take out her frustration on her.

It’s late. Too late for her to be up. For any of them to be up. And while consuming media content in the excuse of Christmas, she barely realizes that they’re very well into the middle of the night.

There’s some distance between them—between her and Kara—a few centimeters that are just near enough for Lena to feel the comfort of Kara’s presence, and far enough for it not to overwhelm her.

She knows she owes Kara something, but Kara doesn’t want an explanation, doesn’t seek it for the sake of Lena and even though she’s grateful for it, Lena feels the need to _repay_.

“Thank you for the rescue, Kara,” she whispers, forcing out the words in her virtually asleep state as a half-assed attempt at compensation. _Even if it wasn’t necessary,_ she wants to add but finds herself too tired to bother.

Kara takes hold of Lena’s hand under the covers once again, lacing their fingers together, raising Lena’s hand to her lips, murmuring against the back of her hand before placing a soft kiss against the skin, “Always.”

Lena clenches her eyes shut at that, reminds herself that Kara’s her over-affectionate _best friend,_ and ignores the butterflies creating a ruckus in her stomach, making her feel more awake than she wants to.

She doesn’t mind, she thinks—not really, not truly.

 

***

 

The following morning has been a lot more quiet, a lot more peaceful than Lena would’ve anticipated, with almost everyone sleeping, in spite it being past noon.

It wasn’t all that shocking when the time they all went to bed was kept in mind—the rest even later than her and Kara. Lena herself has always been accustomed to functioning in less than sufficient sleep, but it was a given that the habit wasn’t very common. Or _healthy_ for that matter, but _oh well_.

Lena couldn’t say she minded the solitude, though. With what was a disaster of a movie night, all things considered, she’s actually kind of surprised she’s not already booking the next flight out.

She really would’ve if something similar in nature had happened a year back, but for some reason, she doesn’t feel more miserable than usual. Surprisingly.

Lena had woken up at around 8, much later than she usually did but she’s certain the holiday factor could excuse that. Moreover, she’s fairly positive she’d be out of bed _way_ sooner if it wasn’t for Kara curling around her back in a tight, strong grip that left her to apply all the rules of mechanics known to man to wrestle out of, all _without_ waking up Kara. Not to mention how she didn’t really want to get out of it anyway—she cuts off her trail of thought. She doesn’t need to get into the details of that; it was all too _pathetic_ , like her hopeless, pathetic crush.

She had been in the kitchen for the last twenty minutes, helping herself to a cup of coffee, catching up on some emails before Kara was up and stealing away her phone.

It was calm, too calm—

“Good morning,” a voice calls, interrupting the silence and surprising Lena.

When Lena turns, she comes to face with the person she’s least excited to see. It was the first interaction they were to have alone, and after what conspired the day before, Lena wasn’t too keen on having it. _But_ she _is_ a businesswoman and she’d be damned before the day she lets her feelings come in the way of her decorum. She greets, methodical and crisp, only wondering for less than a second if she should go with _Mr. Olsen_ instead. “James. Merry Christmas Eve.”

“To you, too, Lena,” he smiles, less practiced and more uncomfortable around the edges.

It’s an awkward silence after it. They’re both a little unsure what to say next, and Lena is mentally cursing James for not avoiding her altogether—

“Look, I’m sorry,” James says, quickly averting his eyes as soon as the words come out.

 _Well._ Lena can’t say she was expecting _that_.

His words fill the quietness in the room and Lena feels more uneasy than relieved on hearing the apology. The uneasiness is most likely palpable, she thinks, because even as he’s continuing, he too visibly cringes, “I was out of line yesterday. I knew those topics would make you uncomfortable—”

“ _Yet_ you brought them up anyway,” Lena completes, like her phone auto-filling her email address. More _been there, done that_ of a situation than it should’ve been. “James, just because Kara and I are friends doesn’t mean _we_ have to be. I didn’t come here expecting everyone’s opinion to magically transform. I don’t expect it now.”

“No, it’s not even—” he sighs, gripping the edge of the counter. “I didn’t give you a fair chance. I guess I’m still bitter about your brot—Lex. And I’m projecting those feelings onto you.”

Lena nods. He started with an apology, continued with an explanation. Lena judges it to be genuine. Genuine enough, anyway.

She’s ready to brush it off, but James continues, “I treated you like a Luthor—”

At that, Lena’s eyebrows bunch up. “I _am_ a Luthor.”

“You’re Lena first,” James counters.

The words ring in her head, like an alarm, like a much-needed reminder. They’re there in her head but she still finds them hard to digest.

She’s realizes she’s been been silent for a while, and conveniently enough, James is doing work for them both in the speaking department, leaving no time for an awkward silence as he continues, “Kara is _smitten_ by you. Even Alex and Maggie seem to like you, Winn is practically obsessed—”

“James,” Lena interjects, although grateful for the reminder. “You’re not forced to like me just because one or two or _even_ all of your friends don’t have a problem with me.”

“I trust their judgement,” he shrugs. “And if they— _if_ all of them believe you’re nothing like your family, then I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”

She’s trying to string her thoughts into a sentence when he adds, “Besides, I’m not a fan of being woken up in the middle of my sleep to a lecture—”

“Wait, _what_?” Lena asks, surprised. “Kara did that?”

“Along with Maggie and Alex and Winn,” he shrugs, fond smile on his face.

Lena lets the information dissolve. It feels a little surreal, a little too good to be true. She hasn’t ever had anyone who would defend her—herself included, and it feels like a breath of fresh air that anyone would think she’s worth the effort. It's the kind of new she readily accepts.

“Kara’s lucky to have you, Lena,” James adds, making her flush and open her mouth to correct, but he interrupts her before she can, probably anticipating her next words, holding his hands up in surrender, “In _whatever way_ she does.”

She settles for, “Thank you, James.”

“My friends call me Jimmy,” he smiles, and Lena finally updates her list of new friendships to four, the last being quite a conquest but she ends up feeling lighter nonetheless.

They’re joined by Alex not long after, who makes breakfast _or_ lunch—Lena’s not too sure given the time—and then plays _loud_ Christmas music, with dual benefits of waking everyone up and _duh,_ festivities.

Somewhere between All I Want For Christmas Is You and Jingle Bell Rock, Maggie joins them and the very public display of affection between her and Alex kind of makes her teeth feel rotten. After Mistletoe, even Winn comes down—even if his primary agenda was to change the song. Last Christmas and Santa Claus is Coming to Town both go without Kara’s presence and she finally joins about six songs later.

Very unenthusiastically, too.

She comes down grumpy and latches herself onto Lena’s back again—and weirdly enough Lena _might_ just be getting used to the constant contact now because her heart beat only picks up a _little_ speed instead of quadrupling—mumbling something about not enough sleep, _which…_ how absurd! She totally slept for more than 6 hours.

Rest assured, after Kara is fed, things do get merrier.

 

***

 

The rest of the day is significantly less happening in comparison, but _definitely_ not less rewarding.

Just like Kara had told her, they visited a local orphanage of James’ choice after brunch, stopping by at a store to stock up presents and toys, Lena fully prepared with her cheque book and philanthropy.

And spending time with the kids went _much_ faster than any of them would have imagined, and they ended up spending almost the entire afternoon up to the evening without realizing.

When they started heading back, it was much darker outside, and all the buildings next to them were lit up, colorful and bright.

“Can we stand and look at the lights for a bit?” Kara says from next to her, stopping in her tracks, less than a mile away from James’ house.

“Isn’t that a little clichéd?” Alex chuckles, but pulls herself and Maggie into a halt nonetheless, making the rest of them follow.

She catches Kara roll her eyes, as she takes in the beauty of both the night and—nope, _pathetic_. It’s silent for a beat before Kara whispers, “Magical, right?”

Lena’s confused if she said it to herself or to her, so she just hums out an agreement in lieu of a proper reply.

The weather is much cooler outside, Lena realizes now that she’s standing still. She feels extremely unprepared, with her light sweater, shivering slightly when a breeze blows by.

Kara glances at her quizzically and she goes to explain, but much before she can get the words _I’m cold_ out, Kara’s already shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over her shoulder, leaving no time for her to protest—the only thing she _can_ do is glare; Lena kind of wants to object against the unfair use of super-speed, kind of doesn’t.

She doesn’t really have time to think about it because the next thing she knows is that Kara’s already behind her, rubbing her arms and she feels herself warm up—partly because of the jacket, partly because of the contact, mostly because of _Kara_.

“Do you need me to get you a jacket, Lena? I’ll be back in a blink of an eye,” Kara asks worriedly, face the picture of concern. Lena knows that she still hasn’t given Kara any verbal confirmation of her being cold, and she has already done everything she could to help her.

She’d be surprised if Kara being ridiculously attuned to her, no matter the circumstance, was a recent development, but it’s been this way since forever. And it doesn’t help her with getting over her _pathetic_ crush whatsoever, only amplifies it.

Kara repeats, “ _Lena_?”

Lena falls deeper. “No need,” she smiles. “Thank you.”

Kara grins, and she finds herself mirror the smile. “Anytime.”

Kara’s gaze shifts back to the lights but Lena’s sticks to Kara. It’s not really a conscious decision, much more an instinct, kind of entirely an effect of her _pathetic, pathetic, pathetic_ crush.

 _God_ , has it or has it not gotten twenty times worse since these past few days?

“Kara, really appreciate this movie-like moment, but I’m freezing my ass here,” James speaks up, sounding like he’s shivering, and Lena’s never been more grateful for Jimmy Olsen because this was _exactly_ what she needed to draw her eyes away from Kara and mind away from her stupidity.

They head back, reaching the house in 7 minutes, finally reminded of the naked Christmas tree Kara had _oh-so-graciously_ dumped next to the fireplace.

“Decoration time!” Winn exclaims, before anyone can settle in. It’s met with mostly groans—enthusiasm only from Kara, but does that even count? _Of course,_ Kara isn’t tired. She’s not even human.

They’re not given time to rest either way, but Lena doubts she’d want it otherwise.

 

***

 

The assembly of the Christmas tree turns out to be far less rewarding and _way more_ problematic (probably due to the exhaustion of most of the participating members) than Lena expected it to be.

It was a multicolored, flocked, pre-lit, 8ft tall tree—a bit _too_ expensive of a choice for a holiday home, even coming from a _billionaire_ —and there wasn’t a lot to do in terms of decoration, just hanging the ornaments. Which… didn’t seem too difficult.

But, of course, nothing was too easy when there were multiple viewpoints involved.

The arguments about the theme and the ornaments lasted for over half an hour ( _way_ more time and effort than Lena thought the affair deserved, in her professional opinion), eventually resulting in the victory of Winn and Kara who both insisted on a Snowman tree. _Coincidentally_ all of Winn’s ornaments matched the theme. How convenient.

Even after the debate and into the real deal, it turned out not to be Lena’s favorite activity. Not by a long shot.

It wasn’t troublesome because it was her first time decorating, not at all—because, _really_ , hanging things isn’t too difficult when you have three degrees _but_ it was a little annoying how no one except her seemed to care about symmetry. Aggravating—but _well_.

(Lena will _never_ mention how the _real_ issue lay when she tripped over the tree-skirt to everyone’s amusement. _Ever._

But as a side note anyway, it was convenient to have Supergirl handy.

In more ways than one.)

Once everyone was sufficiently happy with the decorations, they were already on and about pondering over their next activity.

(Lena never knew _celebration_ was so stressful. And tiring. _Like_ , where does all this energy come from?)

“I can’t watch more movies,” Maggie argues, the group already amidst a more-heated-than-should-be discussion (which ceased to be surprising a couple discussions back). “We’ve had enough.”

“Gingerbread house?” Kara suggests.

Alex shakes her head. “I’ve done my fair share of baking.”

James recommends, “We can watch carols?”

Maggie scoffs. “No, please, we haven’t reached that level of boredom—”

Winn interrupts, “Games!”

“That’s why you’re the genius,” Alex grins, Lena notes how everyone is already moving for preparations.

Games, Lena repeats. Like _Game Night_? Kara had invited her to a couple of those but Lena hadn’t ever gone—but, who could really blame her? She assumed it would’ve been a roomful of people who hated her guts. But now that she’s pretty certain that that’s not the case, games sound… fun.

And by _games,_ they apparently mean _every_ game Lena has ever known in all of her life. Granted, that’s not _too_ many but she doesn’t live under a rock, okay? She knows things. Just from a glance she recognizes Monopoly, Cards Against Humanity and even Ellen’s 5 Second Rule.

When there is discourse between Winn’s and Alex’s choices for the first game (there’s _so_ much discourse for every decision ever, Lena notes again, which she guesses is staple to any friend group but learns to find cute anyway).

Lena has been given the responsibility of making a choice, when they reach a dead-end in the argument, with an explanation of _it’s a novelty benefit, Lena, enjoy it while it lasts._

She glances at the coffee-table, the variety of games laid out in front of her. She picks up a box that peeks her curiosity, reading the rules and humming in finalization. “Wits and Wagers sounds interesting.”

“Of course you’d go with the nerd choice,” Maggie teases, removing the other boxes to the side.

Winn gasps, “Hey! It’s my favorite—”

“Of course _you’d_ agree with the nerd choice,” Maggie easily retaliates.

Winn sticks out his tongue as a reply, their scuffle is cut short when Alex interrupts, after reading out the rules, “Okay, so the only problem is, it’s a four-player game.”

"Let’s do two teams of two?” James advises, and everyone nods. “Maggie and Alex can be one, and I’m assuming Lena and K—”

Which is when Winn intervenes, “ _Me!_ Lena and me!” (whispering a _Sorry, Kara_ shortly after which Lena knows is said louder with intention, but pays no mind to).

“Winn, I don’t know if I’ll be good at board games—”

Winn shakes his head, "Not with that attitude, you won’t be." He glances around the room, turns back to her and says, “Besides, you’re a _genius_ and this is basically trivia _._ It’s a better bet than any of these other losers.”

Kara scoffs, “Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m reigning champion—”

Winn cuts her off, promptly replying with, “Remember 5 Second Rule last Game Night?”

“It was just that _one_ game!” Kara counters grumpily. “I’m not good at thinking on the spot!”

“I really don’t think that’s an acceptable thing for a s _uperhero_ to say, darling,” Lena points out, eliciting a chuckle from James and a _Darling, huh?_ from Maggie that she pretends she didn’t hear—and, like, she _knew_ Maggie was a detective but isn’t it against some type of code of conduct going about making crushes obvious? Lena thinks so, especially if it’s her (absolutely _pathetic)_ crush being exposed. She might have to bribe Maggie and Winn off.

Kara seems to not pay attention to it, which is what it is.

Lena and Winn _obviously_ crush everyone else in Wits and Wagers, but their glory is short-lived when they come last in Cards Against Humanity. Kara steals her as a partner for charades, and in spite her growing fondness for Winn, she really can’t complain when Kara pulls her away.

It follows about the same way for the rest of the night, the occasional banter, throwing of fits, fighting that’s a little _too_ intense to be over a roll of dice—but it’s all packed with love and that’s enough for it to make Lena’s heart feel full.

The game they're about to play next is apparently Maggie's idea because she had won the last one, and if everyone's reaction is anything to go by, Lena thinks of that as a big, red caution sign already. Only scarier when Maggie asks James to take out the alcohol.

But by the way everyone is laughing, Lena knows there’s no other place she’d rather be. Caution signs be damned.

 

***

 

She’s not sure _what_ game Maggie had suggested, but she _is_ sure that it involved _a lot_ of drinking.

Which Lena is good at. Drinking, that is. It’s easy and it’s fun and it’s an activity she can partake in alone, which is arguably the best point because Lena is alone a lot and there’s not many easy and fun things to do then. Except drinking, of course.

 _Drinking_ , she’s good at and Lena likes being good at things—being good, period.

She doesn’t remember what number drink she’s on, which is a good thing because she can drink more in blissful ignorance and a bad thing because _obviously._ She does know that her chest feels tight, though, like it's about to burst if she doesn't exhale. She thinks she's forgotten _how_ about a few drinks ago. It’s sort of alright, though, because she kind of wants to cough too which is basically— _fundamentally_ —the same thing. And that’s not voluntary, is it? Coughing? She _has_ do it at some point if her body wants her to. _Duh_. It’s like the rule of— _of_ life.

And her body _really_ wants to apparently because _cough_ , she does. _Wheezes_ , in fact. So much so that Kara, who she thinks she saw helping James stand straight across the room not too long ago, is rushing towards her. Fast. Fast like _Supergirl_ fast.

“You good?” She asks, concerned, rubbing her back. It’s too quick a reaction and Lena’s brain takes a while to process it, but even before she fully can, Kara is speaking in hurried words again, “Water. I’ll get you water.”

Kara’s gone for less than a second before Lena feels a glass press against her lips and she’s scared of how quick the entire interaction is unfolding, unsure whether it’s due to her slow processing or super-speed. She accepts the water anyway, because her throat feels scratchy and Lena doesn’t really like scratchy things. She greedily gulps the water, coolness settling into her body. Smiling lazily, she says, “Thanks for the liquid. I like it.”

Kara laughs and it’s the first action Kara has done in a while that’s not _alien-_ fast, that Lena’s able to process with ease. “Yeah?”

“ _Mhm_ ,” Lena agrees, swaying a little because she wants to... and she can. “It’s my second favorite liquid. After alcohol.” Lena likes alcohol. It makes things better. Everything is shinier and prettier and _better._ Like, _obviously_. So much more better.

“Of course it is,” Kara sighs, holding Lena’s shoulders to still her. Which, _why_? Lena doesn’t want to stop moving.

“Why did you make me stop?” Lena’s eyebrows scrunch up together, like she’s confused, or angry, or both. “Turn it back on!”

Kara’s confused herself now, expressed in the cute, adorable, _cute_ way with how her forehead crinkles. “Turn _what_ back on?”

“Huh?” Lena replies, totally distracted by Kara’s forehead, by the cute, little, circular-looking scar above her eyebrow. That’s weird. Crush ( _pathetic, pathetic, pathetic,_ her brain reminds _)_ aside, staring at foreheads is weird. _Huh?_

Kara observes her for a second before she bursts out laughing, releasing Lena from her grip. “You’re _incredibly_ wasted.”

Lena is pulled back to the conversation, realizing that she’s been complimented. Being wasted is _practically_ being good at drinking, right? Being good— _yeah_ , a compliment. Lena thinks about it a moment more, and really can’t argue with the logic. She giggles, accepting the praise, “Thanks!”

Kara looks amused, shaking her head, “Yeah, you’re not drinking more.”

Lena pouts. _No one_ can tell her what to do— _but_ it’s _Kara_! Kara is _special._ That implies she’s excluded, right? She wants to whine because Kara is being annoying by being an exception. _And_ not letting her drink. Double annoying. “You’re mean.”

Kara’s about to react when there’s a crash, _loud,_ too loud with an “ _Ow!_ ” and “ _Fuck, Alex, you okay?_ ” that fills the room. Then another crash, another “ _Ouch!”_

Lena notices Kara look away, and she wants to as well but can’t convince herself to care. She assumes it’s a fall—like, she’s 99% certain. _Whatever._

Kara, though, is totally engrossed, looking kind of worried— _attractively_ worried—and Lena discovers this is the best time to escape. From the attention. Not Kara, _never_ Kara. But the attention, yeah. Because said attention is stopping her from drinking. Which she _really_ wants to continue doing.

She steps away, scanning the room, her bones heavy as she carries herself to the couch—more specifically, to the non-empty glass of scotch on the coffee table in front of the couch, which is the closest drink available. She stumbles a bit on the way, because apparently the room thinks it’s a good decision to start spinning and suddenly Kara’s attention is back on her, steadying her body. _Damn it!_ She didn’t even last a minute.

“Stay here,” Kara orders sternly, eyes back to being trained on what Lena guesses is the location of the crash. “I’ll be back in a second. Need to help my idiot sister and her idiot girlfriend up.”

“Okay,” Lena says, turning away and walking, reminding herself to be _stealthy_ —

“Lena, what does _stay_ mean?”

“I’m just going to the couch,” Lena whines. “To sit. _Promise._ ” Lie.

“Fine,” Kara agrees, probably only because she desperately needs to rush to the corner. But, _hey,_ Lena is okay with that. Totally okay.

She manages to reach the couch in one piece. _Aha!_ She gets the hold of the glass, taking a sip. It’s numbing. _Numb_ is nice.

She finally looks around after she’s emptied half the glass—James at the corner with Winn doing... something, which Lena can find out but doesn’t deem worth the effort. And Maggie lying on the floor with Alex, Kara standing next to them.

Kara must’ve felt her gaze because a second later she’s looking back, another second and she’s right next to her. Another and her drink is taken away—

“ _Hey!_ You can’t do that.”

“I _can_ and I _did._ ”

“This is un— _unfair_ use of superpowers!” Lena complains, reaching for the glass.

Kara keeps it back on the coffee table, grasps Lena’s wrists. “You’re going to thank me tomorrow.”

“Why don’t we _share?_ ” Lena suggests, before she remembers. “Wait... you-you’re not drunk _at all_. What a… _party pooper._ ”

"Krptonian DNA, remember?" Kara smiles, still holding onto her hands. Lena feels Kara’s stare like it’s tangible and it makes her want to squirm away, but she’s kind of being held in place so she _can’t_ which is not the best thing. She shakes her head so she can concentrate when Kara further explains, ”I can't get drunk. And _someone_ has to look after all you idiots.“

Lena thinks to argue, _wants_ to argue, but a girl only has so much patience and she inevitably gets distracted by Kara’s intent gaze after all, how she’s _still_ staring, distracted by her eyes and how _deep_ they are, like she can go swimming in them, dive deep inside. Focusing on her eyes makes the urge to squirm subside, and the urge to drown in Kara intensify— _is that a word?_ Un-subside, _yeah,_ that’s what she means.

She realizes amidst what feels like an impromptu _don’t-blink-first!_ competition that Kara’s pretty when she stares at her. She’s pretty when she’s _not_ staring at her too, but Lena decides she’s prettiest when she is. It’s probably something about her eyes, which resemble— _resemble?_ Which _look like_ the sea. Blue and—yeah. _Blue_.

She kind of wants to kiss her, just like she does _always, always, always,_ but she knows that’s not allowed. It’s never going to be allowed because she’s a _Luthor._ Never allowed to act on her _pathetic_ crush—that’s in the constitution.

Kara _is_ her best friend, though and by that logic, she’s allowed to tell Kara she’s pretty, allowed to—“Can I touch your face?”

“ _Huh?”_

Lena giggles. “Your f-face, silly. Can I touch it?”

Kara’s pink now for some reason. Pink like rosé wine. And it makes Lena want to touch Kara’s face more.

“I—uh, _sure?_ ”

Lena finally smiles, splaying her fingers across Kara’s face, reaching up her other hand to hold her face in place. She traces Kara’s cheekbones, then reaches down to run her fingers through her jawline. Kara’s smooth, smooth and soft like an angel. Silky, velvety skin on _pretty, pretty_ angelic Kara. “ _Pretty,_ ” she whispers, almost in awe, more to herself than anyone else.

Kara’s resultant smile only makes her prettier ( _and pinker_ ), she detaches Lena’s hands from her face to intertwine their fingers instead. “Yeah? _You’re_ beautiful.”

Lena’s face draws in amazement. She’s heard that word before—heard it in movies and read it in books. Never in real life, though. “You— _you’re_ the first person who’s ever called me that.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Kara’s face gets all bunched up when she says that, Lena swears she sees traces of red combine with the pink.

“ _Mhm,”_ Lena nods, still looking at Kara in amazement. All _red_ and _pink,_ glowing like an angel. “Thanks.”

Kara’s staring at her again, staring at her like Lena stares at Kara, staring at her all focused and sharp, and the urge to kiss her is back—

“Mistletoe!” Winn’s, at least Lena _thinks_ it’s Winn, scream interrupts, and Lena—even _drunk_ Lena—figures that the voice is too loud for the source to be too far away—

“Winn, you idiot, get away!” Kara laughs, pushing away Winn who was... standing behind them, holding a Mistletoe up. Lena was right then, about Winn not being too far away and she smiles at being right. She can drink to that. She reaches for the glass on the coffee table, leaning forward— _and_ it’s snatched away.

“No more of that for you, Lena, I told you,” Kara scolds, keeping the glass out of reach and Lena angrily pouts. “Yeah, not going to work. You’re cut off.”

Winn—who is still standing behind them—apparently doesn’t back down when drunk. Which is a _good_ thing. Great, even. Lena can respect it—not backing down. Good trait to have. Very, _very_ professional and responsible.

He whines in complaint, which makes Lena frown. That means it’s _serious._ “It’s the Christmas _rules,_ you guys! You’re under the Mistletoe, you kiss. That’s like,” Winn pauses, thinking for a moment, “two plus two equals four! That kind of rule.”

Lena’s frown deepens at that.

Rules. She likes rules. They’re like principles— _basically,_ science, right? Winn likes science. So does Lena. And it’s a _rule._

That’s scientific, isn’t it?

And if she kisses Kara for _science,_ she’s allowed. It’s pretty unflawed logic.

So she does it.

Kiss Kara, that is.

For science.

It feels _right._ So right—when Lena reaches forward and her lips touch Kara’s. It feels right because Kara’s lips are soft just like she always imagined, and she tastes a little like strawberries which she didn’t, but will gladly add as an external observation to her little science experiment.

Kara’s got to understand she’s doing this for science, right? She’s a justice warrior or something anyway.

Science is justice, in a manner. Yeah. _Yeah,_ definitely.

Only for science. _Not_ her pathetic crush. Nope.

She thinks Kara’s kissing her back.

Maybe. Quite possibly.

She isn’t sure, so she presses her lips harder, opens them slightly and suddenly she feels a hand cup her jaw—which is a positive outcome, right?

She realizes it’s not. Not when the hand is pushing her face away.

Kara’s looking away, all pink like she had been before but not really staring at her anymore— _oh no,_ she is. Staring. Again. Like she’s making observations of her own, but there’s a small frown on her face this time. _Fuck._ Did she figure—

“I did it for science,” Lena explains in a rush.

Kara’s flushes deeper, cheeks pinker. Pinker like strawberries are pinker than flamingos.

Lena wonders if her cheeks will taste like strawberries too. They probably do, don’t they? She’s half-sure. But you have to be _full_ -sure. For it to be scientifically established. So, _obviously_ , the rational way forward is to check for herself, right? It definitely is.

She reaches forward and presses her lips to Kara’s cheek, her tongue peeking out—

Kara pulls away.

Again.

And... that’s not good, is it? Lena turns so she could ask Winn, discuss the observations but he’s gone.

Disappeared, like _magic_.

“Winn’s gone,” she complains, but Kara’s not looking at her again. She’s getting up from the couch, pacing for a few seconds that pass by too slow and then looking back at her.

Lena’s quite confused, admittedly, by the game Kara’s playing of _looking_ and _not looking_. Mostly because Lena herself is _always_ looking. And—and _yeah_.

“You’re going to bed.” That’s all the warning she gets before she feels an arm under her legs and one around her back and suddenly she’s—

“Kara, I’m flying!”

Kara doesn’t reply, just walks her to another room, then up the stairs and then she feels herself being lowered to a bed— _oh_ , it’s her and Kara’s bed. Temporary bed, anyway. It’s like the have a room together, like girlfr—“It’s like we have a room together, like girlfriends!” Lena giggles.

Kara finally cracks a smile, but it’s still not the _Kara_ smile she knows. It’s hesitant, empty around the edges—like it’s the safest expression she can manage, a poor little substitute in lieu of her real emotions.

She’s away for a tenth of a second, back with a bottle of water. She makes Lena sit up and drink at least half of it before letting her lay down again.

Moments pass, and Kara remains quiet. Her face is stoic and Lena feels more panicked every passing second.

“You’re angry at me,” Lena says, more as an observation than a comment. It’s not even scientific anymore, and Lena fears Kara knows it never was.

“You... kissed me,” Kara replies, cautious and hesitant. Like she’s tiptoeing a line that’s already been crossed.

Lena hears it as a confirmation nonetheless. She didn’t _deny_ it.

“I won’t do it again,” Lena rushes out. She _wants_ to but not more than she wants Kara in her life. And if she’s angry, she’ll leave and Lena will be alone again. Alone like she used to be, alone like she _doesn’t_ want to be. “ _Please_ don’t hate me. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“ _Lena_ ,” Kara sighs, forehead creased and tense. “That wasn’t my point. You’re drunk. You kissed me because you’re _drunk_.”

Lena stays silent. Silent because talking will make things worse—talking will make Kara hate her _faster._

Her thoughts granulate when the bed dips, and Kara sits next to, looking down at her, whispering her next words—tentative and soft. “I’m not going to hate you for kissing me, angel.” Then, there’s a hand caressing hers. “I don’t think I can _ever_ hate you.”

“You were looking at me weirdly. Please— _stop_.”

“Because I was trying to understand _why_ you kissed me. I mean, I know it’s because you’re drunk—”

“No. Nope. Not because I’m drunk,” Lena interrupts, hoping her words come out fiercer than they are in her head. “I want to kiss you— _wanted_ to kiss you either way. Even when I’m not drunk,” Lena explains, a part of her brain is telling her to shut up but she continues anyway, “I’ll want to _tomorrow_ too, like I wanted to yesterday.”

Kara doesn’t reply, just sighs and looks away.

“Please don’t leave me,” Lena says, words surprising herself. Kara looks at her again and Lena notices how tense she looks, looks at the frown that’s on her face, pictures the smile that should be there in stead. And Lena hates herself, hates herself for _so many_ things, but finds it unforgivable to make Kara sad.

“Where did that come fro—”

“Even—even though I don’t deserve you,” Lena interrupts, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Not worthy of you. I’m _not_ worth it. I’m selfish, but—don’t leave.”

“I’m never going to leave you, Lena,” Kara promises. “Especially not because you like me. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“I have a crush on you,” Lena whispers, in confirmation, in regret, in apology. She says like it’s a fact. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Wayne Everett Quinton is the father of bioengineering. _I have a crush on you_. It feels childlike and juvenile, admitting crushes, but Lena does it anyway. It’s liquid courage. It’s stupidity. It’s recklessness. “For so long. It’s _pathetic._ ”

“Why is it pathetic?” All of Kara’s questions, all her sentences are _soft,_ calming, like antidotes.

“It’s always been,” Lena breathes out, interlocking her fingers on top of her stomach. “I’m not—I _can’t._ Lillian always told me I would be lonely.”

“Lillian doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No one loves _Luthors,_ ” Lena recites, like words memorized in all-nighters for tests floating in her head. “No one can love me.”

“We shouldn’t be having this conversation when you’re drunk,” Kara says as a reply, Lena finds herself nodding. No conversations about her _pathetic_ crush. Good idea.

She says anyway, “I’m not going to cry—not _a lot._ Won’t cry a lot when you leave. I’m _better_ now, I _know_ better. Not going to cry—”

Kara interrupts, with a voice that makes Lena flinch, makes her eyes shut close. “I’m _not_ going to leave you, baby.”

Kara’s words contrast her voice, and Lena feels _confused,_ so confused. She hears a promise, already sees it break in her head. “Everyone always has.”

Kara drops her head into her hands, eyes drawn down to her lap and Lena strangely finds looking at her relaxing, which is probably the opposite of what Kara feels, if Lena knows anything about postures.

After a few long minutes, Kara looks at her again. “Do you think you would have told me all of this if you weren’t drunk?” Kara says, voice low and serious.

Lena hums distractedly. “You’re Kara,” she replies.

“Does that mean no?”

“That means,” Lena begins, twisting her body to face Kara, grinning but looking anything but happy while doing it, “I’ll tell you anything you’ll ask me.” She pauses, scrunching up her eyebrows together. “I don’t know how to say no to you.”

Kara smiles, reaching up to stroke Lena’s face, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. She whispers back, “Yeah. I don’t think I do either.”

 

***

 

Lena feels weightless and drowsy, barely conscious like she’s in a dream.

In the background she senses movement—ruffling of sheets, squeaking of a bed, hand against the headboard and she wants it to _stop_ but her eyes are too heavy to open.

She reaches out her hand in the general direction of the noise, catches hold of a fabric and _pulls._

The first thing she registers is warmth.

Everything pauses for a moment. Still and silent. The way she wanted. A little like floating in the ocean, a little like sleeping on a cloud.

She tugs again, because she wants the warmth nearer, then when it’s sufficiently close, lets her fingers slip and tucks them against her chest.

A beat later, she hears, “Lena?” It’s said so quietly, so calmly that it makes her sigh.

A kiss on her temple. Soft, familiar lips. 

Then, movement again. Colder and colder, further and further—“ _Stay_ ,” she whines out.

Sigh. Slipping into sheets. Wrapping up in arms. More warmth.

She hears a _“Please_ don’t regret this in the morning. _”_

She’s not sure if it’s her imagination.

 

***

 

There’s been more than just a few times that Lena Luthor has woken up alone and black-out drunk.

If ever challenged, she can name at least seven from the top of her head; there’s the time Lex went to jail, the time Lillian went to jail, the time Lillian told her she was a Luthor _in_ jail, the time Lillian escaped jail. _Well_. Anything to do with family and equivalently prison, for one (two, three and four). There was the time she broke up with Jack (maybe it wasn’t so much about Jack’s _presence_ as it was about the lack thereof, but it’s counted nonetheless), the time Sam had to move back to Metropolis, the time she realized she was in love with Kara—well, yeah. It occurred pretty often, more so than considered healthy.

She guesses it might not be such a common occurrence if she learns to build any sort of an emotional resistance (or maybe, drops her last name), but it is what it is.

The point being that it happens a lot, and she’s used to it—adding it to the pile of many other things that are not healthy to be accustomed to but she’s made a habit of anyway.

But because she’s a Luthor, which _by definition_ means she has the worst of luck, this morning is _not_ one of those times, no matter how common they are otherwise.

Even if she wishes— _prays—_ she didn’t, she wakes up with full recollection of the night, down to each and every painful detail.

And once those details sink in, come rushing to her all at once, pounding in her brain like a headache, she wants the ground to swallow her whole.

She wants to undo or rewind or, better yet, shut down completely.

She tries to calm down—to keep her heart rate under control, and it’s working, she guesses, because Kara isn’t rushing into the room to inspect—

 _Wait_ , what if that means Kara’s avoiding her?

She vaguely remembers waking up at around 4 in the morning, remembers puking and brushing her teeth and drinking the rest of the water Kara had left for her. Remembers Kara not being in bed, remembers her headache and remembers falling back asleep.

 _So_ … Kara left.

 _Fuck._ Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She supposes there’s no reason to blame Kara for it, because Lena was the one who couldn’t get her _pathetic, pathetic, pathetic_ crush under control, she was the one who kissed—

Lena can’t even think about it without wanting to punch herself in the face.

She feels like she’s slipping, her brain starts beating and her heart stops, and—

She’s distracted by the rapid knocks on the door, three in quick succession and then five following after half a second. _Three, five, half,_ Lena repeats in her brain, concentrating on the figures so she stays calm, so she stays grounded _._ Lena takes about seven seconds to process that someone wants to come in, then two more to realize that _someone_ is probably Kara. _Three, five, half, seven, two._

Lena doesn’t know _why_ she’s thinking in numbers, but numbers are dependable and safe and engineered and trustworthy, _opposite_ to all the emotions she’s currently feeling.

It’s not too good a strategy, because she’s so consumed, so absorbed in trying to stop herself from having a melt down that the knocks come again, only this time, they’re accompanied with, “Lena?”

 _Kara_. Lena takes no time to recognize the voice or the distinct-from-anything-she's-used-before tone Kara addressed her by.

Lena wouldn’t have thought anything of it at any other moment, but right now, she’s struggling to remember the last time she felt anything resembling uncertainity of intention with Kara. It’s been too long, _way_ too long if Lena can’t recall it. And Lena is helplessly in search for signs to guide her through and this doesn’t sound like a good one.

“Lena, can I come in?” Kara asks again. “Please?”

 _“_ The door’s open,” Lena calls out, her voice surprisingly stable, contrasting how shaky she actually feels.

Kara walks in, hair messy like she’d repeatedly ran her hands through them, eyes red like she’d barely slept—

She finds herself asking before she can control herself, “Did you sleep?”

“Yeah, uh... on the couch.”

 _Of course,_ Lena sighs, she knows Kara would find sharing a bed with her uncomfortable. _Obviously._ She _did_ kiss her—

“ _To give you space,”_ Kara rushes out, words not sufficiently spaced out as she lets them out in one breath. “ _Not_ —Not for any other reason.”

It feels like a lie. Her gaze drops to where her hands are interlocked on her lap.

The silence between them is too loud, and the fact that Lena wants to _scream_ is not helping. At all.

She lets some time pass, with Kara still awkwardly standing next to the door. The distance between them, the awkward hesitance—it’s all new territory, and Lena doesn’t know how to usher herself through it, hates herself for putting them in it in the first place.

When she looks up, she sees Kara stare at her, unmoving like she’s waiting for Lena to initiate the conversation, to set the boundaries and make a decision.

Lena opens her mouth, tries to say something—make a joke, or ask about how uncomfortable sleeping on the couch might’ve been, or even wish her a Merry fucking Christmas—but fails, fails like she always does when it comes to anything that’s worth more than money. She gives it another attempt, opens her mouth… then closes it. She feels like the personification of texting bubbles, appearing and disappearing. Only she doesn’t have the option to close the chat.

She doesn’t have a problem _speaking,_ but she’s clueless on what to say. She wishes that someone drops a script she could follow, but tragically, her wish isn’t granted. Forcing herself to say _something,_ she does the thing that comes instinctually to her. She hides. “I actually, uh, need to shower. Do you mind?”

Kara doesn’t say anything, looks at her like she knows she’s lying, looks at her like she doesn’t mind anyway, looks at her like she’s saying _take your time_ —looks at her for a moment more just because, then walks away.

It hurts Lena in a way she knows it shouldn’t.

 

***

 

The shower isn’t as calming or mind-clearing as the movies make it sound. Which is a disappointing, _painful_ revelation.

In fact, as soon as she’s under the water stream, she feels like she’s being slapped in the face by unwanted recaps of memories left, right and center—inescapable and unrelenting.

The first thing Lena’s reminded of is the _Please don’t regret this in the morning,_ in the same desperate way it was said _._ It’s ringing in her ears, on repeat like a broken record, so loud that it’s deafening.

She remembers the mistletoe and Winn, remembers strawberries and the kiss, she remembers Kara pushing her away—

_Well._

If anything, it makes her complete the shower _unusually_ fast and rush out of the bathroom. It’s the only way she can _run_ away from the situation—it doesn’t make her feel better in the slightest _._

There’s breakfast on the bedside table when she returns, and Lena sees the words _ready when you are_ expressed by the gesture like they’re _written_ on the omelette itself.

It makes her want to cry for some reason. But a lot of things have since last night so she’s not that bothered.

Lena knows the _Luthor_ way forward is to avoid, ignore, forget. It’s what she’s been trained to do, it’s what’s in her blood. But she _also_  knows that the stars would fucking rearrange themselves before she ever allows herself to treat Kara like a Luthor.

It’s too consuming, knowing that Kara knows. It’s oddly relieving and burdening all at once. Like two opposites of a spectrum colliding just for Lena’s sake. She can hear the bang if she strains her ears.

Her feet guide her to the bed before her brain even allows it, but she’s grateful for it all the same—grateful in a way where she thought her bone marrow had been replaced with fucking iron because all she felt was _heavy, heavy, heavy._

She knows it’s been a lot of minutes, maybe even a couple of hours, and all she’s done is stare up at the ceiling. It’s useless, but Lena decides it fits the situation anyway.

She plans a muting device for thoughts in her head for a good chunk of time, imagines herself working on the prototype, testing it on herself. Imagines how it’d feel. Imagines the emptiness. It calms her down.

The door opens a while later, she senses it’s Kara the second it does and she impulsively shuts her eyes close on the realization.

Lena knows she should say something, but also knows Kara wouldn’t push her for an explanation and can’t help but consider taking undue advantage of that.

Her eyes stay shut but she hears Kara put something on the bedside table, which smells like food. Probably lunch, if Lena guesses and that’s when she remembers she hadn’t had breakfast either. She feels Kara sit on the edge of the bed, barely touching Lena. She feels Kara’s hand delicately soothe the crinkles on her forehead, feels Kara kiss her cheek.

Kara doesn’t say anything, no. Even though she probably knows Lena’s awake, she doesn’t prod.

Only lets her know she’s there. Expects nothing in return.

Kara gets up not too long after, and Lena imagines her walking away when she finds herself whispering, “Kara?”

For someone who everyone pegs to be a cold-hearted and fierce, the words come out defenseless and weak in a way which makes Lena want to cover up, _shield._ She’s hasn’t felt _this_ vulnerable in a long time.

If Kara is surprised by her unexpected inclination to talk, she doesn’t let it show. She smiles comfortingly, takes back her place on the edge of the bed and takes hold of Lena’s hand, stroking the skin.

Lena sits up, scoots closer to Kara, their proximity washing over her like reassurance, encouraging her to take the leap. She doesn’t overthink her decision before blurting out, “I don’t regret it.”

Kara smiles at her, squeezes her hand once, twice and thrice. She repeats, so calming and quiet like a blanket of security, “You don’t?”

Lena nods. She doesn’t know what else to say but, “I’m sorr—”

“I’m in love with you,” Kara says, cutting her off, with such surety that the words sink into Lena’s brain without any further efforts.

Lena feels her world tilt on its axis—a shift she can feel in every cell of her body.

The words— _their meaning_ —haven’t quite caught up to either of them until Kara’s eyes widen and Lena forgets how to breathe.

Lena reacts first, when they fully sink in a moment later. She doesn’t want to give Kara an opportunity to take them back. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Silence.

Lena sees Kara’s lips turn up like it’s in slow motion, and can’t help mirroring the smile; she feels like a feather, feels like she’s flying.

“Lena,” Kara whispers, tentative and hesitant, holding her face. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that oka—”

Lena cuts her off by pressing her lips against hers, drowns out everything else and melts into Kara.

Everything clicks back into place.

They’re kissing and Lena feels so much that she can’t even describe it. It’s not their first kiss, no. But it is their first _sober_ kiss and Kara’s lips are warm and soft and full just like she vaguely remembers.

Lena sighs in contentment. She kind of wants to laugh and she kind of wants to cry and it’s all too much yet not enough; she’s kissing Kara through it all, lips moulding together _so_ rhythmically that Lena feels it’s surreal.

They pull apart for oxygen for brief a second before Kara’s reaching for her lips again but they’re barely even kissing because of how wide their smiles are—and if Lena had to describe the kiss in one word she’d choose _happy_.

Lena knows if emotions were tangible, she’d be conducting ten different experiments to recheck the elastic properties of her heart because there’s no way it doesn’t burst when she’s feeling _so much,_ right?

 _Definitely elastic_ , Lena thinks when Kara doesn’t let go, only holds her tighter and kisses her harder until all Lena touches, breathes and feels is Kara, until each nerve point in her body is _alert,_ until her lips are swollen _._ Even then, Kara doesn’t pull apart, instead she leaves long, lingering pecks against her lips.

“Merry Christmas,” Kara grins when they finally pull apart, resting her forehead against Lena’s, holding her body in a way that makes her feel precious and wanted. She could get used to that.

Before she can bring herself to return the greeting, Lena thinks, _Yeah_ , _Christmas is definitely worth the hype_.

**Author's Note:**

> christmas is over but the fun never stops (also im indian and don’t really celebrate christmas so if this was wayyyy off im sorry skskwjh. + gonna add that english is not my native language and that i didn’t have a beta bc i like my excuses to be in place just in case this sucks balls and you demand a refund of your time.)  
> this is my first fanfic for this fandom/sorta my first complete fic ever and well… idk tell me how you like it/how you dont? feedback is always always welcome!!  
> hope u all had a great day and have an even better 2019🥰🖤


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